A charming stranger knocked on my door, mistaking me for the cleaning lady. I played along. An funny mistake turned into a frightening realization.
Scrubbing the kitchen countertops brought the smell of lemon cleaning. A faint dishwasher hum filled the peaceful air.
Cleaning wasn’t my favorite, but it kept my hands busy and mind clean. The doorbell interrupted me after I threw the sponge in the sink.
A tall, polished man with a toothpaste commercial smile greeted me when I opened the door. One hand clutched a leather briefcase and the other a smart phone.
He exclaimed, “Hello!” Looking for Mr. Lambert. The cleaner must be you. Right, Liliya? He extended a hand. I’m David, his business partner. Nice to meet you.”
Before I could correct him, he checked his watch and said, “Mrs. Lambert has told me so much about you. She showed me your photo.”
My heart jumped. “Mrs Lambert?” I asked, unable to speak clearly.
“Yes! “She and Greg always work well together,” he laughed.
Mrs. Lambert? Who should I be? Cleaning lady? Curiosity won. If he thought I was someone else, I’d play along.
“Please, come in, sir,” I murmured with a little bow, trying not to giggle at the foolishness. You’ve known Mr. and Mrs. Lambert for a while?
“Oh, years,” David answered, sitting on the couch. they’re quite the duo. Look happy together always.”
My pleasant grin was forced. Wanting to leave the room, I grabbed a glass of water with a racing heart. Who is Mrs. Lambert?
David was browsing his phone in the living room. He raised eyes. I have a photo of them. Let me demonstrate.”
My stomach fell when he handed me his phone. I saw my sister Allison, arm in arm with Greg, smiling at me.
“Isn’t she lovely?” David stated.
I battled to stay calm. “When was this photo taken?” Tensely, I asked.
David didn’t note. “A year ago at a corporate event. Interestingly, Greg rarely discussed his personal life. He seemed single for ages. I met them on the street, and he introduced her as his wife.”
I gulped and gave him the phone. My ears were ringing, but David kept talking.
He said, “They’re such a lovely couple. “She showed me a picture of you once. I inquired, ‘Who’s this gorgeous woman?’ “Oh, that’s our cleaning lady,” she said.
As I held the glass, my hands tensed. Cleaning lady? This a joke?
I put the glass down and smiled. “You must have many photos of them together.”
“Absolutely! Another from the same event.” My head spun. David glanced worriedly at me. “Are you okay, Lilya?”
I breathed deeply and smiled. I’m OK, sir. Would you want coffee while waiting for Mr. Lambert?
David grinned, unaware of my inner turmoil. “That would be great. Thank you.”
Walked back to the kitchen. Mrs. Lambert? My sister? What’s happening?
I returned to the living room, heart racing but face calm. My coffee was stirred uncomfortably by David on the couch. He looked up and smiled politely.
“David,” I said calmly but firmly, “we need to talk.”
His smile sank. Yes, sure. About what?
I pointed to the mantel’s silver-framed portrait. Please help me. Look closer at that picture.”
He hesitated, then took the frame. He frowned as he examined it. He said, “This… this is you,” with bewilderment in his voice.
“That’s right,” I said. “And the man next to me? Yes, my spouse. Greg Lambert.”
David blinks, strengthening his frame grasp. “Wait. What are you saying?
My hands were in my lap as I leaned forward. David, I’m not the maid. Mrs. Lambert. The genuine Mrs. Lambert.”
His face paled. He returned the portrait to the mantel as if it had burned him. “I don’t get it. I thought… His lips opened and closed like a fish out of water as he spoke.
“You thought my sister, Allison, was Mrs. Lambert,” I concluded.
Nodding, he struggled to comprehend. “She told me… Greg presented his wife. She showed me their photos together. Nobody told me. Seriously, I didn’t know!”
He squirmed as I waited in quiet. I concluded, “David, why did you come here today?”
He sighed after he paused. “I came to convince Greg to sell me his business share. However, it’s complicated.”
“How complicated?”
David looked uneasily at me, “Well, the share isn’t technically in Greg’s name.” “Mrs. Lambert owns it. Your name.”
“And my sister forged my signature to stop the sale?” I asked sharply.
David’s eyes expanded. “I… Though I didn’t know it was forged, she stopped the deal. I assumed your choice.”
I laughed hard, masking my rage. It wasn’t. But thanks for confirming my suspicions.”
David appeared to want to burrow under the coffee table. I feel dreadful. I wasn’t trying to force you. If only I knew
“It’s fine,” I interrupted, my voice hard. It’s not your fault. Let’s close the transaction since you’re here. Offer what for Greg’s share?
My rapid tone change confused David, who blinked. “The original offer was substantial, but I’m willing to go higher to resolve this quickly.” The figure he named confused me.
Though my mind raced, I kept my face neutral. That’s OK. I manage papers. Can your legal team submit the paperwork tomorrow?
“Yes, absolutely,” David said happily. “Thanks, Mrs. Lambert. I mean—”
I answered, “Don’t worry about it,” smiling slightly. “Just finish this.”
Greg slammed the front door behind him the next night. His jacket hung over his arm, his tie untied, and his face flushed with wrath.
“What the hell did you do?” yelled.
Read a book on the couch. I scarcely looked up. Hello, Greg. Long day?
“Don’t play games with me!” he said, throwing his jacket on a chair. “You sold my business share! Are you aware of your actions?
I closed and placed the book on the coffee table. Greg, I know what I did. I fixed your minor issue.”
He yelled, “My problem?” his face turning redder. You shouldn’t have sold that share! My company, my future!
I stood facing him. “Wrong. The share was mine. I took control after learning what I did.”
Greg’s boasting failed. “What are you discussing?”
“I’m talking about Allison,” I said coldly. “Your little ‘wife.’ Or did you think I wouldn’t know?
With his mouth gaping, Greg froze. Listen, I can explain—
“No,” I stopped him. “Enough with your excuses. I consulted a lawyer. I will file for divorce.
Greg was stunned. “Divorce? You serious?
“As serious as I’ve ever been,” I said calmly but firmly. Since you and Allison falsified my signature, I deserve recompense. Completed sale. David will deposit the money into my account by week’s end.”
Stumbling, Greg fell into a chair. “You cannot do this. You ruin me.”
Staring down at him, I folded my arms. “No, Greg. You ruined yourself.”
Two weeks later, I left my lawyer’s office with a divorce agreement and newfound freedom. The settlement was lavish.
I got my fair portion of Greg’s business sale and hefty pay for my fraud. Justice was done.
I broke up with Greg and Allison. The legal threat broke their well created web of falsehoods, but my lawyer prevented the fraud from going to court. Greg’s business failed, and I thought his relationship with Allison ended.
The betrayal haunted me for days, causing rage and despair. Clarity replaced fury over time. They had taken my faith for granted, yet their deception revealed a hidden strength.
The location where Greg’s photo was was visible in my living room. A modest vase of fresh flowers replaced it. I grinned.
My story continued. New beginning. I would write it my way this time.
